If not now…when?


The procrastination has peaked.  I’ve read all the other blogs – every single one on the internet, sorted out under the bed, even finished some out of hours work work….it’s time to just start typing isn’t it?  Before I turn my hand to baking something.  There’s an itch I need to scratch. I’m not sure why the urge to write has reappeared, particularly not when the entire world is balls deep in short form content, but I refuse to make a TikTok* so…here we are. It’s what I know.  Long and wittery writing is the old friend I turn back to time and time again. 

That said, apart from this relentlessly perky early pandemic diatribe (if I’d known how long it’d go on, I’d have reigned in the pithiness significantly, I apologise) I haven’t written much of anything at all – for fun anyway – since somewhere in the depths of 2018 and a fair amount’s happened since then, eh? 

The end of so many of the things that defined the old ‘Life Outside London’: the marriage, the house, the career. The step-mumming.  In a very, very short space of time – days I think – everything changed.  It was a lot. 

And I stopped writing.  I couldn’t figure out how to be in this space – one that had its identity so heavily wrapped up in all of the things that had just gone.  Plus, you know, words really help me process stuff so of course I denied myself that particular outlet. Some kind of self-flagellating trauma response. It happens.

Since then: 

What could be described as a fuck tonne of hours have been spent in therapy, a ridiculously lovely ‘new’ love arrived (floated in on a cloud if I remember right), I found a new home by the river, there’s a new hound in the wolf pack, I spent some time freelancing and got me a cracking new job and started teaching actual yoga to actual people. I also had a baby.  A healthy, beautiful, spectacular baby. 

And life is unrecognisable again. Just. Like. That. 

Except not really just like that. Because life is as hard and messy as it is beautiful. And years have passed. Years that were absolutely necessary to get from there to here. And there was that whole pandemic thing somewhere in the middle when no one really knew what the fuck was happening for a bit. 

So why are we back here now? Tip tapping nonsense on the internet for all to see. A few reasons: 

  1. I would have found so much comfort in reading about others experiences of equally ginormous life ‘stuff’ whilst I was going through all that. And I couldn’t really find it.  I can’t promise to share everything warts and all – parts of the story aren’t mine to tell and parts I may never be able to bring myself to talk about here – but the bits I can, I’ll do my best with. 
  2. I really miss the words and IG captions just don’t get me there the same way. 
  3. This new version of ‘Life Outside London’ still has lots of the beautiful bits that started this whole online adventure. So maybe you’ll get a bit more Westcountry fun – that antithesis to London life I sought out such a friggin long time ago.  
  4. Life is good. It’s simple, sweet and skint. I couldn’t be much happier. It’s nice to write about nice stuff too.  

I don’t know if it’s a stupendous error to mix the delightful ‘stuff to do in Devon’ with some occasionally heavier experience stuff right here in this space but it’s all part of the same life isn’t it? And life is as delicious as it is difficult so…might as well go all in.

So here we are old friends – maybe new friends if anyone still seeks out blogs to read or I discover some latent SEO superpower I didn’t know about. I’ve already failed at nicheing so it’s not looking great. 

Can’t wait to (re)get to know you.

*just checked: I did not make one in a cider fuelled mid-pandemic haze. As you were.  

A quick note. At some point in the last few years GoDaddy waged war on the blog and deleted some 11 years worth of my nonsense from the internet. I don’t *think* it was a conspiracy but you never know. 

I used an actual web time machine to salvage a few that I liked and stuck them on here.  I also pulled out a few to rewrite at some point. The rest is a brave new adventure we’re going on together. Buckle up!